Howlers and Nail Polish
by jilyesplz
Summary: "Black," Lily Evans said, casually Levitating seven plates of waffles above her head as she spoke, "If you think anyone in this House gives a flobberworm's tit what your mother has to say about you, you're dumber than Potter." "Do flobberworms have tits?" - another Jily epic to add to the stack, feat. love, laughter, friendship, and flirting
1. Welcome Home

**Hi, my lovelies! This is my first (by first I mean republished from the account I shut down, guh) attempt at a real multichap, I'm really excited for it!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nada.**

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Over the last two weeks of term first year, Sirius got progressively angrier and sadder and meaner every day. He'd never known he could love a place like he did Hogwarts, or a person like he did James and Remus and Peter.

He'd never known he could be a Gryffindor, and kidnap people's cats when they annoyed him, and sing terrible Muggle music at the top of his lungs, and sneak into Hogsmeade under James' invisibility cloak, and make his brilliant, intimidating headmaster laugh with his imitation of Professor McGonagall, and actually _like_ house elves - they weren't all like Kreacher! There was one he especially loved named Josie who would let him and his mates into the broom shed and play referee for their midnight two-on-twos.

But now he would be spending the next two months where he couldn't do or be any of those things, and, well, it was hard to bear.

He had no idea that James had written home to ask if his new best mate Sirius Black could come visit over break, because James didn't receive his mother's answer by owl until the last day of term. James looked at Sirius and tried to tell him, because he knew this paper in his hands was more than some dumb playdate invitation. But James was dumb and eleven and had never had to say anything meaningful before, so he didn't quite know how to go about it. So he just shoved his mum's letter into Sirius' hands and said gruffly, "Read it or something." So Sirius looked down and saw: _'James, we live in a mansion. Tell Mr. Black he can spend as much time here as he wants.'_

The asking and the answering and the handing off of the letters became a tradition, and the letters themselves became progressively less formal every year.

Second Year: _'Tell Sirius we'd love to have him, and if he gives enough advance warning, I'll even run to the supermarket and get those terrible Muggle biscuits he likes so much for his welcome dinner.'_ (James hated those biscuits, and he sincerely considered "forgetting" to mention what day Sirius would arrive)

Third Year: _'Well, James, for your sake, Sirius had better stop by soon because if you think you're allowed to_ touch _your broomstick before you two clean up the mess you madeat the Godric's Hollow cottage at Christmas hols,_ _you are sorely mistaken.'_

Fourth Year: _'Your father says if Padfoot doesn't get his arse over here within the first month, he can forget about golf lessons (I don't know what 'golf' is, Fleamont claims it's some Muggle thing he offered to teach you two, but if it's going to mess up my house all of you stupid boys will have hell to pay).'_

Fifth year, James didn't even need to ask, because by this time his parents wrote to Sirius as well. Two months into term, Euphemia sent Sirius a note unprompted: _'We're renovating at home. Are you planning to sleep in James' bedroom, or do we need to be careful to leave an extra guest bedroom intact? PS – you have terrible taste in rooms, young man, and I don't care that the Ophelia Suite is your favorite, it's hideous and the bed is lumpy, and your options are the Sunset Suite or James' room.'_

Sirius showed up in their fireplace holding two trunks instead of the usual one after only a week that summer and no one needed to ask. He simply went to sleep in James' bed, and Euphemia kissed both boys on the head, even though—"Mum! We're way too old for that!"

When Sirius and James woke up the next morning, it was to the smell of blueberry pancakes, Sirius' favorite breakfast. And as Sirius practically skipped downstairs James—whose favorite food was French Toast—had a silent but very aggressive war with himself about whether or not he should whine about this blatant favoritism because

On the one hand, he _hated_ blueberry pancakes,

But on the other hand, Sirius needed his favorite food more than he did right then,

But on the first hand, nobody made French Toast the day _James_ came home,

But on the other hand, he wanted to make sure Sirius didn't feel like James begrudged him anything because he didn't, obviously,

But then he realized that under normal circumstances he _would_ complain (he decided not to spend any time contemplating what a prat that made him), and more than anything else what Sirius needed right then was to know that this wasn't weird for James, this was perfectly normal because they were _brothers._

So James dramatically threw his hands in the air and wailed, "BLUEBERRY, Mum? You KNOW I hate how they explode in your mouth!"

For a long moment, no one said anything, and he was terrified that he'd done the wrong thing, but then Sirius looked up with a shit-eating grin that split his whole face open and he had about ten un-popped blueberries in between his teeth. With no warning, he chomped down hard, and the blueberry juice shot wildly in all directions, spraying the plate and the table and hitting James right smack in the face.

Mrs. Potter tried her absolute best to look disapproving, but James just looked so _shocked_ as he dripped purple, and the whole thing was bloody hilarious. Mr. Potter cracked up instantly, and he laughed and laughed and laughed until he finally pulled himself together enough to clap a hand on Sirius' shoulder and yell, "Way to go, son!"

Sirius looked up at him, confused and skeptical, because he didn't get how Mr. Potter could be proud of James for getting sprayed with blueberry juice, was this some Potter family rite of passage he didn't know about? But then Sirius saw Mr. Potter looking down at him, grinning and proud and laughing his head off, and realized that he was Mr. Potter's son now too.

 **Hope you like! Update coming soon, but reviews will bring it sooner :)**


	2. Mother Dearest

**Wowowow! I'm so thrilled about the response to this story, thanks so much to mtg312,alwaysforjily, Dul'mephistos, jilyforeva, and EchoingSounds for the reviews! Hope you guys like the update :)**

9:07 AM - Sirius sprayed blueberry juice into James' face, painting it purple and reminding both boys of a particularly excellent prank they played on Cadbury Mulciber at dinner last year. They proceeded to tell the story loudly and flamboyantly, constantly interrupting each other and breaking off to have side conversations about new prank ideas.

9:23 - Mr. and Mrs. Potter both happened to look away at the same moment and James took the opportunity to hex Sirius' face green in retaliation.

9:24 - Mrs. Potter confiscated James's wand (for the prank, not the underage magic, the Potters always let them practice as long as there was an adult around).

9:27 - Mr. Potter gave the wand back with a surreptitious high five.

9:29 - James discovered the wand his dad gave him was a fake one when he tried to magically remove the blueberries from his pancakes and instead found himself holding a rubber duck, beginning an intense four-way debate on the function of a rubber duck.

9:36 – An owl soared in through the open kitchen window and clattered onto the table in front of Sirius' plate, and they all fell quiet. The envelope tied to its leg was bright red and bore a legend in his mother's scrawl:

 _Mr. S. Black_

 _His Blood Traitor Friend's Room_

 _79 Astoria Way_

 _Harpenden, Hertfordshire_

Twenty-nine minutes of blissful happiness before his mum had to cock it up?

Yeah, sounded about right.

He reached for the letter – he'd gotten enough of these over the years to know they're quieter if you get it over with quickly – opened it deftly, and listened in stony silence as Mrs. Black wailed and howled and bellowed her fury at her eldest son's betrayal, her assurance that the political wind was blowing her way thanks to the Dark Lord and soon he'd rue the day he left, her declaration that if he ever set foot in their house again, he could expect to be treated like the filthy Mudblood scum he hangs out with, her pain over how he had besmirched the sacred Black family name, her fervent wish that he could just be more like Regulus. She finished with quite a flourish:

" _ONE DAY, YOU DISGUSTING MONGREL, YOU WILL BEG ME ON BENDED KNEE FOR PERMISSION TO REENTER THIS FAMILY AND I WILL HAVE THE HONOR AND THE PRIVILEGE OF TELLING YOU TO GO TO HELL AND TAKE YOUR FILTHY BLOOD TRAITOR FRIENDS WITH YOU."_

Mr. and Mrs. Potter stared at the Howler. Sirius knew those looks: They were horrified, offended, disgusted, but they didn't know what to say. He could sense them taking furtive peeks at him, unsure if he would cry or rage – _he_ wasn't sure what he should do, so he couldn't exactly blame them –

"Well, Merlin's curly nose hair, Mum, why can't you be a _cool_ mom like her?" James's hands were curled into fists, his shoulders were hunched, and his brow was furrowed into an angry line, but when he spoke, it was light and teasing, and his voice cut through the tension at the table like a knife.

In seconds, all four were laughing and joking and by 9:51, Sirius came up with a new idea for what to do with a rubber duck and a certain part of his mother's anatomy. It made James guffaw and Mrs. Potter say, "Padfoot!" in what she clearly hoped was a scandalized and disapproving tone, but the effect was kind of ruined by the errant giggle that escaped her husband.

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All in all, the first Howler wasn't so bad. The second was a different story.

He recognized his dad's owl, Abatius, as he skidded down the table at lunchtime, knocking over Mr. Potter's pumpkin juice (probably on purpose, Abatius is a prat), but that didn't mean he was prepared for the red envelope on his leg. Sirius was used to Howlers – he couldn't remember a year at Hogwarts when he hadn't gotten at least one – but two in one day? That was…below the belt. He didn't care what his mom thought of him, he _didn't,_ he _hated_ her, but…still.

He grabbed it, because there was nothing else to do, was there, but let it talk and listen? And he pulled it open, hating her and Abatius and this stupid Howler but mostly hating the part of himself that was hoping his mum had had a change of heart and this one was gonna be her bellowing "NEVER MIND, SIRIUS, WE LOVE YOU AND WE WERE WRONG! STAY WITH THE POTTERS ALL YOU WANT, BUT WE'LL STILL LET YOU COME BACK AND WE'LL COME TO YOUR GRADUATION, AND OF COURSE WE DON'T CARE WHETHER YOUR FRIENDS ARE PUREBLOODS OR NOT, THAT'S DUMB."

Shockingly enough, that wasn't what she said.

'YOU DISGUST ME! YOU DISGUST YOUR FATHER! YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO YOUR FAMILY AND YOU WILL BE A DISAPPOINTMENT TO EVERYONE WHO EVER HAS THE MISFORTUNE TO KNOW YOU -"

 _"REDUCTO!"_

Sirius was drowning so deeply in his mother's words that he hadn't realized James was on his feet until James pointed his shaking wand at the letter. "REDUCTO!" He screamed again, louder even than Mrs. Black, "STUPEFY! EXPULSO!"

Cursing a Howler turned out to be a _very_ bad move.

Suddenly there was not one mother screaming that Sirius has brought dishonor on her family but fifty, and they had lifted off the table, flying in a circle around his head, larger and louder than before. James cowered and whispered something, maybe _'I'm so sorry,'_ judging by his lips, but Sirius couldn't hear a word of it. When she finally stopped, and it took much longer this time, nobody made a joke.

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The third owl landed in the middle of the salad at dinner and immediately took a shit.

Horrified, Sirius tried to grab the letter, but before he could reach, Euphemia Potter stood up and grabbed the whole bird by a wing.

"Right," she snapped, "This is getting out of hand." She picked the bird up, Howler still attached, and carried it through the house to the front door. James, Sirius, and Fleamont ran after her just in time to see her pop open the seal on the letter without taking it off the owl's foot, swing the poor animal around her head once, twice, three times, then release, watching the poor squawking owl (now-yelling Howler still in tow) go soaring over the hedge like a garden gnome, too dizzy to even flap its wings.

The boys turned to each other in awe, and Fleamont grinned, wrapping an arm around each of them and whispering: "Minnie McGonagall was four years younger than us in school. Worshipped Euphemia like a goddess."

When Euphemia walked back in the door, James snapped to attention and gave her a soldier's salute and Sirius pretended to play a horn to serenade her in. They pivoted to process back into the kitchen in front of her, conjuring an actual horn (Sirius) and a pair of cymbals (James) on the way, on which they attempted to play a soldier's march, although they kept breaking off to cackle.

They didn't give it up until they'd marched her through the whole downstairs twice, and when they finally stopped, she couldn't seem to get the corners of her mouth to turn down again. Instead she put her hands on her hips, cocked an eyebrow at James and demanded, "So. Still think I'm not a cool enough mum?"

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 **Hope you like, and get pumped for Jily next chapter!**


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